


liven it up

by theafterimages



Series: frat au [43]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Crossdressing, Drunken Kissing, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 22:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9145381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theafterimages/pseuds/theafterimages
Summary: Bambam doesn’t do anything by halves. Yugyeom should have known that would include Kappa Tau’s first crossdressing mixer of the year.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year! Starting things off with the proverbial bang. Though not the literal one. Sorry, Bambam. 
> 
> (As for 2016, I did the [fics in 2016 meme](http://eveninadream.livejournal.com/26627.html), if anyone is interested!)
> 
> Frat AU master lists: [by storyline](http://eveninadream.livejournal.com/17207.html) and [by chronology](http://eveninadream.livejournal.com/9888.html).

Bambam doesn’t do anything by halves. Yugyeom should have known that would include Kappa Tau’s first crossdressing mixer of the year.

He lets himself into their dorm room and finds Bambam in front of the mirror, a tube of lip gloss in hand. He’s wearing a white crop top, has one of his favorite black chokers around his neck. Yugyeom recognizes the black ankle boots Bambam is wearing, too, though given that he’s wearing them with sheer tights and a tiny red animal print miniskirt the boots are managing to make Bambam’s legs look even longer and more incredible than they usually do. He has a wig on already, too, a brown one pulled into a ponytail that’s draped over one of his shoulders, leaving the other side of his neck bared.

Bambam rolls the lip gloss over his full lips, purses them in a kiss at his reflection, then meets Yugyeom’s eyes in the mirror and smiles. “You’re straight,” he says. “How do I look?”

Not completely straight, Yugyeom thinks blankly as he stares at Bambam. And not because of the outfit, either. He knows full well who’s underneath. And Bambam is the one Yugyeom wants underneath _him_ , or on top of him, or spooning against him, or-

Yugyeom shoves aside the increasingly rated mental images. “Great,” he croaks.

“I know,” Bambam says smugly, looking back at his reflection. “Jackson’s gonna think so, too.”

Yugyeom’s stomach sinks. Jackson. Of course this is just about Jackson.

 

 

 

Yugyeom _had_ always assumed he was straight. He’s never been the type to check out a lot of girls casually; he usually only realizes he’s attracted to someone after he develops feelings for them. That had only ever happened with girls, so he figured he was straight and that had been the end of it. 

Until this year. Until coming to Cartwright. Not just because of Bambam, honestly, but Bambam more than anyone.

Not that Yugyeom has been able to do anything about it. Bambam is so fixated on Jackson, and has been for so long, that Yugyeom isn’t sure he would want Yugyeom or anyone to confess to him. And then there’s the part where Bambam is so convinced that Yugyeom is straight. Yugyeom doesn’t know how to correct him, not when all of this is so new to him; not when there’s not much he’s sure of anymore beyond the fact he wants to be with Bambam more than he has ever wanted to be with anyone.

 

 

 

Kappa Tau outdoes itself for the crossdressing mixer, including when it comes to drinks. Yugyeom normally doesn’t drink a lot, and has a high alcohol tolerance, but Mark had insisted that he try the shots Minhyuk whipped up. They had been so good that Yugyeom had had several, and so potent that he’s not entirely sure which way is up anymore.

At some point he made it onto the Kappa Tau couch. He’s talking to Nayeon, though he hasn’t been able to follow the conversation as well as he probably should. She keeps smiling up at him and touching his arm, and she’s a good dancer, and she’s so pretty and nice. If there’s anyone here Yugyeom should feel drawn to, it’s her, but he keeps searching his feelings and coming up empty. Well, coming up drunk and longing for Bambam, but the point is, nothing beyond friendship for Nayeon.

And then Bambam is there, too, like Yugyeom had summoned him somehow. 

Bambam practically throws himself onto Yugyeom’s lap, leaning in so close that Yugyeom can smell that he’s had at least a few shots, too. “ _You’ll_ pay attention to me, right?” he asks, pouting. His lips are so red, so full...

Yugyeom nods, resting his hands on Bambam’s hips. “What?” He means to ask _what’s wrong?_ but the other half of his question gets lost somewhere in favor of staring at Bambam. He can focus, sort of. It’s hard to focus on Bambam. He looks _so good_. But then, he always looks so good. 

Bambam seems to know what he meant, anyway. “Mark and Jackson aren’t paying attention to me,” Bambam whines. 

“That sucks,” Yugyeom says absently. He’s not even bothered by the eternal mentions of other people, too absorbed in how his first two fingers are touching the warm, tan skin bared by Bambam’s crop top. What if Yugyeom could put his mouth there, too… what if…

“Jackson said I look cute. I’m not cute, I’m _hot_. Right?” Bambam frowns, biting his lip. 

Yugyeom is only just sober enough to stop himself from audibly whining at the sight. He doesn’t realize he’s said “ _Wow_ ” out loud instead of just in his head until Bambam laughs.

“You’re so drunk,” Bambam tells him.

“What?” Yugyeom whines. “They’re _pretty_.” He reaches out but doesn’t quite realize what he’s doing until he’s already brushed his thumb against Bambam’s lower lip, the stickiness of the lip gloss jarring him back to awareness. 

They both blink at each other for a few seconds, and then Yugyeom pulls away, covering his face with his hands. “I’m so drunk,” he mumbles. He almost wants to squirm away to go be embarrassed somewhere else, but he’s not coordinated enough for that; and anyway, that would mean giving up having Bambam in his lap, and he doesn’t want to do that. 

He settles for leaning his head back against the top of the couch with a groan and closing his eyes. Maybe if he can’t see Bambam, Bambam will just forget it ever happened.

But then…

It takes him a few seconds to realize what the soft pressure and softer sounds against his neck mean—Bambam’s _kissing him_ , a slow, sweet path toward his jawline.

“Bambam?” Yugyeom asks fuzzily.

“You’re cute, too,” Bambam murmurs.

“I’m—but—” Yugyeom gives up as Bambam keeps kissing him. Bambam pauses at one particular spot, kisses him harder, and Yugyeom whimpers and closes his eyes again. He rests one hand on Bambam’s neck, feels Bambam shiver against him at the touch and vaguely wonders at it, but is quickly distracted when Bambam bites down. Yugyeom moans, heat flooding through him at the feeling, and strokes the back of Bambam’s neck as Bambam keeps going. Bambam utters a contented little purr of a sound and slips his hands under Yugyeom’s shirt.

“Bambam— _Bam_ —” Yugyeom pulls away, stares at him, and then they’re kissing for real.

Bambam’s mouth feels even better than it looks. He tastes like cherry lip gloss, and like alcohol, but the latter is easy enough to forgive when Yugyeom knows he does, too. And when his head is swimming too much to even register it much. When the only fucking thing that matters is Bambam.

Bambam keeps whimpering louder and louder as the kiss gets messier, more desperate. Yugyeom hadn’t known he could want Bambam this much, that he could want _anyone_ this much.

They break away for air, finally, but not far; Yugyeom rests his forehead against Bambam’s, keeps his arms tight around him. Wants to stay as close as he can get. “Wow,” he says again.

Bambam laughs dazedly. “I know.”

Yugyeom should probably stop touching Bambam so much, he knows, but Bambam murmurs contentedly and tucks his head under Yugyeom’s chin, stroking Yugyeom’s stomach absently. “You feel nice,” Bambam mumbles.

Yugyeom swallows. Bambam feels nice, too. Yugyeom wants to feel him everywhere… but not now, when the alcohol is finally catching up to him enough to lure him into a quietly sleepy state instead. Right now just holding Bambam like this is all he needs.

 

 

 

Yugyeom wakes up to a pounding headache, Bambam’s face pressed against his shoulder, and the vague yet definite certainty that something monumental had happened.

He groans and shuts his eyes again, grimacing at the taste in his mouth. Those shots may have tasted great last night, but the aftertaste is a whole other story. The only nice thing right now is the improbably solid warmth of Bambam sprawled half on top of him, his arm curled possessively around Yugyeom’s waist—

And that’s when Yugyeom remembers: he kissed Bambam.

His eyes pop back open and he sits upright, immediately clutching his head as the sudden movement has the pain redoubling. Bambam rolls over, pressing against the back of the couch with a whine. 

Yugyeom stares down at his narrow back. _He kissed Bambam_. Then, as more memories filter through, he mentally amends: _Bambam kissed him_. What is… how…

But that’s not the only thing he needs right now. He forces himself off the couch, picks his way through the KTs sprawled on the living room floor, and is thankful to find the nearest bathroom unoccupied.

One look in the mirror has Yugyeom gaping—there’s lip gloss smeared on his mouth and jaw, and a huge, dark mark on his neck. He slaps his hand over it, his knees going wobbly all over again as he dimly remembers the pressure of Bambam’s mouth at his neck, Bambam’s happy near-purr of a hum and the way Bambam’s hands kept stroking—

Yugyeom shakes his head, grimacing at the momentary worsening of his headache. What’s he going to do now? There are two things he knows for sure about Bambam the mornings after he’s been drinking: he never gets hungover, and he never forgets anything that’s happened the night before. He’ll remember this. Yugyeom will have to explain.

He’ll need to tell Bambam everything. Finally.

Just the thought has him nauseous with nerves, but it still feels right. It’s time for Bambam to know how Yugyeom feels about him; for Yugyeom to at least know if he has a shot in hell with him, or if he can even hope for one.

 

 

 

Bambam stirs awake as Yugyeom reenters the room. “Yugyeom?” he mumbles.

Yugyeom wonders if he would be like this the morning after sex, too, and gulps at the thought. They hadn’t done much else before falling asleep, he’s sure of that—he has hazy memories of fumbling his way through helping Bambam take his wig off, doing battle with what seemed like five thousand bobby pins. Bambam had giggled at his distress but rewarded him with more sweet, increasingly languid kisses that Yugyeom had fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of. 

“Hey,” Yugyeom says, and hopes like hell he sounds normal. 

“What’s up?” Bambam asks around a yawn, rubbing his eyes. “You sound weird.”

“We, um.” Yugyeom swallows. “Last night…” He’s still not sure exactly what he wants to say, but he’s ready. One way or another, he’s going to tell Bambam everything—

But then Bambam starts _laughing_ , ignoring the sleepy protests of the nearest KTs. “I win the mixer,” he says proudly. “I was such a hot girl even _you_ kissed me.”

Yugyeom knows he should say something— _I didn’t kiss you because you were dressed like a girl, I kissed you because you’re_ Bambam, _because I always want to kiss you, because I just always want you…_

But Bambam is laughing, and then he gets up from the couch and smiles at Yugyeom like everything’s perfectly normal, and all of Yugyeom’s words stay frozen and locked inside. Bambam wants Jackson, not Yugyeom. What if Yugyeom confesses and Bambam doesn’t understand his feelings? What if it hurts their friendship?

So instead Yugyeom forces a smile. “I’m never drinking that much again,” he says lightly as he trails after Bambam toward the kitchen, like he’s not completely raw inside.

“Don’t worry, you were still a good kisser.”

“You were okay, too,” Yugyeom says, sounding as teasing as he can. 

Bambam squawks indignantly. “I was _great_.”

At least the bantering is easy. Even hungover, Yugyeom can do this. Talking to Bambam is always easy… except just moments ago, when it counted the most.


End file.
